Reflections (Week 10)

     As the quarter draws to a close and we reflect on the many artists and concepts discussed in class, I find it it hard to distill my reflection down to one topic, or one lesson. Each artist offered a new perspective on the experience of Chicanx existence, through their understanding of religion, tradition, colonization, gender inequality, and self identity.

    I believe the viewing of the round-table conversation between Ester Hernandez, Yolanda López, and Alma López in the documentary I Love Lupe (2009) illustrated the broad reaches of Chicana art and the multiple generations of women who have contributed to its legacy.

    While the documentary is generally focused on Catholicism, the image of La Virgen de Guadalupe and all that the deity represents (motherhood, virginity, divine presence), the three artists discuss the intersection of feminism and the Chicano Civil Rights Movement in the mid twentieth-century. Through the deconstruction and revision of La Virgen's image, the artists contemplate its cultural significance in Mexican-American communities, and more relevantly, the lives of Chicana women.

    What did the image symbolize of Chicana womanhood and self-identity? For Yolanda López, this was rendered in her Guadalupe series which illustrated and elevated the role of working class women. For Alma López, the body of La Virgen was reclaimed in defiance of the male gaze which limited the expression of her femininity. For Ester Hernandez, this was by capturing a vulnerable, amorous relationship between two women. The controversy of the three artist's works were striking and enlightening to my understanding of Chicana art, and its influence both within the Mexican-American community and in the greater world of art and all its conventions.

    

Chicana Futurism (Week 9)

    Published in 2002 by Catherine S. Ramírez, Deus Ex Machina is a comment on the contemporary manifestations of Chicana identity within the scope of Mexican-American tradition, the technological progress of the twentieth- and twenty-first century, and the work of Chicanafuturist artist Marion C. Martinez. The essay's opening quote, uttered by cultural theorist Stuart Hall, encapsulates the condition of reviving traditional mediums of art in the modern day: the return of the ancestral past is permanently "transformed by the technologies and identities of the present." Marion C. Martinez illustrates this marriage of a folkloric past and digitized present, often looking ahead towards the collective future of the Chinanx community as this relationship will develop.

Marion C. Martinez, Oratorio a la Virgencita, 2000

     In this sculptural piece by Marion C. Martinez, the artist utilizes a discarded circuit board to reconstruct an image of La Virgen de Guadalupe, in the traditional frame of an oratorio. The convergence of nineteenth- and twenty-first century materials and aesthetics are very evident: the carved wooden structure is decorated with embossed roses, and painted designs reminiscent of the sun and moon, making the imagery surrounding la Virgen very traditional. The figure of the Virgen, however, is abstracted with the texture of the machine. The choice to use circuitry in this piece seems to be a comment on the existance of life on the periphery in rural, northern New Mexico, a region burdened with "transuranic" waste from the nation's military industrial complex.

    Inspired by the radical "Afrofuturist" movements of recent years, "Chicanafuturism" examines the relationship between Latinx/indigenous people of color and technological advancement, infused with a hopeful, empowering, and creative narrative. Whereas many Indo-Hispanic individuals have been limited by the Western gaze to a dated existence, inspired only by folk art of the past, "Martinez's work challenges racist, classist, and sexist stereotypes that primitivize Hispanas and exclude them from the domain of science, technology, and reason as it reshapes the tools of the information age" (Ramírez 157). Chicanafuturism is used as a mode of articulating the many past, present, and future identities of Chicanas, who exist at the intersection of spiritual, ancestral knowledge and modern, scientific advancement.

Chicano Art: Looking Backward (Week 8)

 

    In 1981, at the time of the release of Chicano Art: Looking Backward, Chicano art was still a burgeoning medium; perhaps not in its infancy of recognition among art critics and the market, but rapidly growing and looking forward towards potential paths in mainstream media. Although no "plateau" had been reached in the artistic movement, as noted by the author, exhibitions began to open across Southern California in reflection of the preceding decade and its artistic products. A watershed moment had appeared for the Chicano art community, as their history was examined and future considered. The focus of the essay contemplates this shift in collective goals as a cultural, social, and artistic movement, as well as the retrospective understanding of the movement up until the early 1980's.

    Unlike many artists of other aesthetic movements, Chicano artists are uniquely bound together by a shared culture, region, and history of activism. My initial reaction to the question of the movement's direction (as either a communal service or mainstream profession) was of slight confusion: are not all artists different? Must Chicano/a/x creatives be bound to their heritage, above all else? I see now that this is a peculiar situation, and that while many Chicanx artists follow no designated path, there is a strong central ethos of politicization that is inherent in the community. It is bound to the neighborhood, the people, the struggle for equality, and freedom.

    The exhibition itself has many conceptual contradictions, notably with the demonstration of live "mural" painting on monumental canvases, instead of true building exteriors. While the author criticizes this approach, stating that the separation of these "murals" from the architectural context of Los Angeles "decontextualizes... and violates its function," (439) I believe that the exhibition is intended to simulate its subject matter as a mere performance of public Chicano art. Truly, the art is detached from its place of origin when not on the streets of the urban metropolis, both literally as a transportable medium, and figuratively as a different mode of connecting artist and audience. The painters' conversations with their audience members may be authentic, but the means by which they arrived at that moment were orchestrated, very different from the organic flow of a neighborhood.

Graffiti is Art (Week 7)

 

Chaz Bojórquez

    In his essay "Graffiti is Art," Charles "Chaz" Bojórquez defines the cultural, personal, and artistic power of street art for Latinos in the urban landscape of Los Angeles. From the opening paragraphs of the piece, Bojórquez emphasizes the power of language in the sprawling and multicultural city of angels. Bojórquez equates the many spoken languages in the city to the aesthetic and written language of graffiti, and notes the general sense of prejudice against the latter: "Graffiti is too often related to such acts as vandalism, destructive behavior, and meaningless scribbles" (117). As he continues, however, Bojórquez points out that the "ills of society" that are often attributed to graffiti, are in fact the reason for its existence: as a communal voice in opposition to the racism and classism used against Mexican-Americans.

    On a personal level, the technique of "hitting up," declares one's presence and claims one's block as their own, in a defiant act of empowerment. In the execution of each line, there is deep sense of poise and demand for respect, as noted by Bojórquez on page 120. Here, he explains an important division of style: cholo graffiti is more community driven, with writers claiming their neighborhood or crew, while hip-hop highlights the individual, who writes across the city and state. While this may be an outdated delineation of graffiti technique, it is an important point when discussing the impact of the art form on the community and individual, respectively.

    As an art form, graffiti has developed greatly since its beginnings in the first half of the 20th century. At the time of the essay's publication in 2000, Bojórquez illustrates the growing value of street art, and how its influences have expanded from insular communities of writers, to the greater practices of fine art and graphic design. As the art form develops, so too does the artist's relationship with their work. Bojórquez writes, "When you can spend three to four months on one painting, you learn to create a two-way dialogue with your imagery," in contrast to the fast-paced nature of street tagging. The beauty of graffiti is within this ever-changing quality, as it adapts to different neighborhoods and regions, or suits ones personal needs as an individual artist, and establishes its unique value as a contemporary movement in the art market.

Rasquachismo (Week 6)

    Rasquachismo is a common experience in Chicano communities across the United States and Mexico, yet is seldom defined in academia. Merging ideas of class consciousness, adaptability, and resourcefulness along with aesthetic features of bright colors, overlapping textures, and repurposed objects, rasquachismo describes a "Sensibility," "Attitude," and "Taste;" a dynamic reaction to living as the underdog in society. In the margins of class divides, the rasquachismo will find the beauty and nobility of their surroundings, championing the intellect of the worker and pointing out the frivolous nature of life itself and the world at large. Utilizing visually striking colors and ornamentation, the rasquache aesthetic is described by Ybarra-Frausto as "unrestrained," making each recycled object a statement, both literally and figuratively. While some may see the struggle of the rasquache as unfortunate, filled with suffering, and ever-pining for a different life, the reality of the sensibility is "sustained by laughter and cosmic will-to-be," (88) far removed from the expectations of outsiders who cannot see past the individual's class status.

    In my personal experience, I was always taught to deeply appreciate salvaged objects used in every-day life. I was surprised to read that the use of recycled cans as flower pots was noted, as this is something that has always been in my home – our many colorful Café Bustelo containers house herbs, flowers, and succulents, which have been collected via clippings from plants in our neighborhood. The rasquachismo has been instilled in me through this appreciation for the multi-functional properties of everyday objects.

La Virgen de Guadalupe (week 5)

    In Los Angeles, the symbol of La Virgen De Guadalupe can be seen nearly everywhere; from murals, to votive candles, to jewelry, you can find her solemn gait pillowed in flowers and rays of light. In santería stores, tucked away in the center of one-story brick buildings, she will be printed on cards, with prayers written in suit. Churches are dedicated to her image. La Virgen is a part of Los Angeles' culture as much as the name of the city itself, and from a young age I was very conscious of her symbolic presence, noting it wherever I went.

Mural for La Virgen de Guadalupe in Los Angeles

    Though I did not grow up Catholic, my parents often displayed imagery of many different religions in our home. Next to a statue of Buddha would be Pagan runes, and in our doorway the evil eye, and hanging next to the kitchen sink, a portrait of La Virgen. This unspoken religious syncretism was very affecting for me as I grew up, and with an air of detachment, I felt I could admire and relate to all of these symbols of spirituality without the guilt of being "untrue" to one. La Virgen was an image that I was very fascinated with – I saw her as a symbol of my home city Los Angeles,  more so than an actual mother or deity. I felt a connection to a sacred sense of femininity in her essence, and whenever I discovered altars in her honor on the street, I would stop to admire the scene. Also, I believe part of my admiration for La Virgen de Guadalupe comes from my connection to my ethnic heritage, as well. In spite of a lack of communication with my extended family, I have always felt that the symbol of La Virgen connects me to my ancestors who once prayed to her image and believed in her magical properties.

¡Printing the Revolution! Exhibition Opening (week 4)

 

    The Smithsonian Institute's online opening reception for ¡Printing the Revolution! The Rise and Impact of Chicano Graphics: 1965 to Now hosted a range of artists, collectors, and art historians who gathered to celebrate and discuss the inspiring graphic work led by Chicanx activists in the exhibition. The artwork was introduced as a "catalyst for change," and a medium through which revolutions prospered and won the hearts of thousands through visual language.

By Malaquías Montoya

    Notable among the speakers was E. Carmen Ramos, the co-curator and author of ¡Printing the Revolution!. In her introductory speech, she explained the organization of the exhibit and its themes. Carmen Ramos pointed out the similar approaches to protest found in the Cuban Revolution and Vietnam War, which informed much of Chicanx artwork in the following decades. For Carmen Ramos, each of these cultural movements are bound by the bold artwork and aesthetics which they produced and inspired.

    As Juan Fuentes beautifully articulates during his time speaking, raising his "social consciousness" was a large part of his development as an artist. I believe this speaks directly to the concept of unity that permeates throughout the exhibit and the greater scope of Chicanx art – through these communal art spaces and creative outlets, different communities are able to come together in resistance to oppressive systems of prejudice and violence. The precision of marrying image and message is crucial in this endeavor, and the skilled artists who breathe life into these movements are to be celebrated.

¡Printing the Revolution! Exhibition Opening Reception (week 4)

    The Smithsonian Institute's online opening reception for ¡Printing the Revolution¡ The Rise and Impact of Chicano Graphics: 1965 to Now hosted a range of artists, collectors, and art historians who gathered to celebrate and discuss the inspiring graphic work led by Chicanx activists in the exhibition. The artwork was introduced as a "catalyst for change," and a medium through which revolutions prospered and won the hearts of thousands through visual language.

By Malaquías Montoya

    Notable among the speakers was E. Carmen Ramos, the co-curator and author of ¡Printing the Revolution¡. In her introductory speech, she explains the organization of the exhibit and its themes. Carmen Ramos points out the similar approaches to protest found in the Cuban Revolution and Vietnam War, which informed much of Chicanx artwork in the following decades. For Carmen Ramos, each of these cultural movements are bound by the bold artwork and aesthetics which they produced and inspired.

    As Juan Fuentes beautifully articulates during his time speaking, raising his "social consciousness" was a large part of his development as an artist. I believe this speaks directly to the concept of unity that permeates throughout the exhibit and the greater scope of Chicanx art – through these communal art spaces and creative outlets, different communities are able to come together in resistance to oppressive systems of prejudice and violence. The precision of marrying image and message is crucial in this endeavor, and the skilled artists who breathe life into these movements are to be celebrated.

Jeaneene Carlino (week 3)

 

Jeaneen Carlino

    My chosen artist is Jeaneen Carlino, a contemporary painter and illustrator based in Los Angeles, California. From an early age, Carlino showed a strong affinity for visual art and natural skill with illustration. Following her life-long passion, Jeaneen began attending Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California, where she was able to immerse herself in the art-world and showed her work in various group-exhibitions as well as hone her creative voice and practical technique. Her work focused mostly on femininity, and strong female figures in Carlino's early life. Carlino recalls this period as "The birth of [her] Women," which would continue to develop throughout her career. After graduating in 2007, Carlino took an unexpected break from showing in galleries and began work at Trader Joe's, where she was an artist for eight years. Jeaneen made the decision to pursue a full-time career as an artist and independent business woman when her child was born two years ago, and has been sharing her "Tribe of Women" with the world ever since.

    With work showing in local galleries, art and craft fairs, boutiques, and the Latin American Museum of Art gift shop in Long Beach, Carlino's work is multimedia, as varied in form as it is in theme. Drawing inspirations from religious ritual, Chicanx culture, spiritual healing, the divine feminine and, specifically, self love, Jeaneen's creations are made to uplift, inspire, and unite her viewers who see themselves in her work. Most of Carlino's work is illustrative, made with graphite and ink. From her time at Trader Joe's, she also has strong talent with chalk and mural painting, which she executes with expressive lines and precision. Even in the realm of corporate advertisement, her unique voice is able to shine through while serving the product. Jeaneen now lives by a strong moral purpose of service to others, gratitude for her unconventional journey as a visual artist, and appreciation for the healing powers of creativity.

Claudia Zapata Question and Answer

    One might wonder if digitizing art devalues the work itself, as if the use of modern technology strips the essence (aesthetic, thematic, or practical skill) of a particular piece. Rupert García’s reluctance to use digital printmaking is an example of such a notion, as he is quoted on page 132, under the assumption that the exploration of digital media would “contaminate” the purity of his work as a fine artist. Though the question is subjective, one could answer that the utilization of online mediums is a powerful way of re-imagining modes of creative expression in a way that uplifts political movements by reaching a larger audience and is a new method of engaging with viewers.
    As Zapata describes on page 131, "Chicanx artists have actively participated in each technological paradigm shift,” showing that the spirit of decolonization, representation, and social consciousness is an ever-adaptive movement that spans across many different platforms. Arguably, all eras of Chicanx artistry have this goal in common: to create, discover, and utilize all avenues of expression to create lasting change in the art world and beyond. Much like the tangible, in-person communities that created and disseminated wood-block prints made by hand, online communities now have the same experience, yet are not limited by physical proximity to each other and their viewers. In essence, the value of the artist’s message can, at times, be increased through larger platforms and easier modes of access. Additionally, this adaptive characteristic of Chicanx art can be used to the advantage of political activists, and has invented new methods of protest, such as occupying and crashing government websites.

Papel Picado by Daniel González

    The use of modern artistic media to represent traditional holidays and beliefs in the Latinx community is a symbol of classic art forms being re-imagined by technology and contemporary generations. Daniel González’s papel picado both honors Día de los Muertos and notes the Chicano civil rights movement that led to the acceptance of the holiday in the United States. This double meaning, one that simply represents the holiday and comments on the history of the tradition is only possible at this crucial stage in art: one that is in transition between old, traditional techniques and new technologies, just as it is in transition between older generations and new. The shift in production flows in tandem with modern culture and consciousness, alike.

Chavez-Razzano, Ashla

    Hi! My name is Ashla Chavez-Razzano. My preferred names are Ashla or Ash, and preferred pronouns are she/her. I am a junior transfer student from Santa Monica College majoring in Art History, and I’m very excited to take this course for many reasons: I have never studied art that is specific to my ethnic heritage (aside from one course on the ancient Americas), nor have I been able to study contemporary political movements and their relationship with visual media. By the end of the quarter, I hope to gain a better understanding of Chicane identity and the development of art forms as protest and vehicle for self-determination.

    I was born and raised in Venice, California, on the west side of LA, and have always felt a strong connection to my home: I am a surfer, roller skater, and love to go on bike rides in the neighborhood. I DJ on a local radio station KTPC at 99.1FM, which is broadcasted only in Venice (tune in if you’re around, and look out for DJ Fiver!). As an artist, I am mainly a musician and play in three different musical projects that range in genre from doom-gaze (doom metal inspired by shoe-gaze), grunge, punk, ambient soundscapes, and traditional singer-songwriter acoustic music. I love to paint, illustrate, collage, and write poetry, and was a finalist in the LA Youth Poet Laureate competition in 2019. Much of my creativity and love for art stems from my fascination with the use of symbols, especially those which can be found across different peoples and cultures. I love plants and animals, too.

    The assigned reading this week, ¡Printing the Revolution! by E. Carmen Ramos, reminded me of my time volunteering at the Museum of Latin American Art in Long Beach, California. During my time at MoLAA, the main exhibit was about the power of zines in the Latine community, and the influence the art form had as a method of protest. It took a new medium of visual art to communicate a new era of politics and social awakenings that occurred in the twentieth century, and symbolized a shift in identity for many marginalized Chicanes in America. Something I took note of was the inclusive process of zine-making and print, one that spoke directly to audiences and was created by entire communities of artists, writers, and activists. As Ramos describes, “Chicanx artists and their collaborators have capitalized on these tools and ways of working to reach audiences in innovative ways.” Though two dimensional in form, the artwork produced during this time was much more; it was a call to arms and symbol of unity both in message and method of production. I am excited to explore these mediums in depth, and their engagement with readers across decades.

    Nice to meet you all!